NEVER TRAVEL FASTER THAN YOU CAN NAVIGATE
Every summer, I guide a group of men into the backcountry of the Grand Tetons. For six days, we carry everything we need on our backs as we travel through Cascade Canyon beneath towering peaks and through grizzly habitat. Most of the trails we hike are easy to follow. The path is obvious. The destination is clear. Except for one section.
The route to Lake Solitude often remains buried beneath several feet of snow. The trail disappears. The terrain becomes deceptively uniform, and what appears to be solid ground can hide running water beneath the snowpack. In those moments, navigation matters. It matters not only because you can find yourself in a deadly situation, but you risk missing your destination. Here’s some quick math to explain what I mean.
A hiking party that is only ten degrees off course won't notice the difference at first. The terrain still looks familiar. The mountain still feels the same. But after just one mile, they'll be more than three football fields (laterally) from where they intended to be. Direction matters more than intention.
Missing the mark is not merely a navigational concept. It is a biblical one. Take the word sin for instance. It’s short, three letters, and rarely used in modern English. Yet the word sin is our equivalent to the Greek hamartia. That word, hamartia, is an archery term meaning to miss the mark or veer off course. Sin literally means to miss the target.
Which begs the question: What is the target, and how do we miss it? The target is life as God intended it. In step with Him, aligned with His will, and moving toward His purposes. Yet, we humans miss that mark all the time because, well, we are human. To quote the English poet Alexander Pope, “to err is human…”
We miss the mark, not always because of our lack of aim. We often miss the mark by drifting. Most people do not wake up one morning and decide to ruin their lives. Instead, we drift.
One compromise. One neglected discipline. One excuse. One degree at a time. Slowly, off-course, making allowances and excuses for our deviation. But like the hiking party above, after one mile at ten degrees, we are 920 feet away from where we were aiming. That slight deviation has a tremendous effect.
So, we shall do well to remember, never travel faster than you can navigate. There is more than one way to miss the mark. An arrow can veer left or right. Or it can fall short, "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). One misses because of direction. The other misses because of distance. So how do we guard against drift? The psalmist asked a similar question centuries ago: "How can a young person stay on the path of purity? By living according to your word." (Psalm 119:9) We refuse the drift by keeping our eyes and heart on the destination. Hikers stay on course by regularly checking their bearing. Followers of Jesus do the same thing. We return to God's Word. We recalibrate. We remember where we are headed.
Paul told the church at Philippi: ‘"Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal... but I press on toward the goal..." (Philippians 3:12-14)
So press on. Stay on target. Refuse to drift. In the mountains, we regularly stop to check our bearings. Not because we expect to get lost, but because we know drift is easier than we think. The same is true in life. So press on. Stay on target. Refuse to drift.
Keep your eyes on Jesus.
He is not only the destination; He is our True North.
Carry the Fire,
SCOJO
